


With Almonds

by lazaefair



Category: Eureka
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazaefair/pseuds/lazaefair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene in the Season 1 pilot episode...if it had happened in a parallel universe. First meeting between Jack Carter and Nathan Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Almonds

The good deputy was overworking her deadpan delivery today and meanwhile, Jack was really starting to get tired of these people and their Small Town 'R Us mentalities.

"We've all seen 'The Fugitive,' marshal. How about you let us take care of this?"

Well, damn. He picked up his jacket and pondered how best to be...sort of...tactful. "I don't want to step on any toes, sir, but I do have a lot of experience with this kind of thing."

"Trust me." Cobb didn't miss a beat. "You don't."

And they left him hanging, neat as you please, but Jack Carter didn't get out of mission mode that easily once he'd fallen into it. Ask forgiveness later, he figured. It was almost criminally easy to duck under the tape and lift the tarp covering the back of the trailer without anyone noticing, and step into...the strangest crime scene he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Wow." It was like the aftermath of an explosion, but instead of jagged edges and a mishmash of debris, whatever had taken out the entire rear end of the trailer had left a weird footprint. Like Pac-man had sat there and chewed everything up, leaving what looked like the hollowed-out shell of a globe.

It beat out even the armageddon hippie commune in '99. "Huh."

The tarp crinkled again. Someone cleared his throat, "Looking for something?"

Jack turned around and looked up. And up. New Guy, tall and impeccably groomed in a suit that made Jack's dusty, muddy togs cry in shame, tilted his head and pinned Jack with a questioning stare. "You are aware you're disturbing an active crime scene?"

New Guy had a deep booming voice. And he loomed. Jack didn't like New Guys with deep voices who loomed, not when they were challenging his authority. He flipped out his badge. "Actually, I'm investigating an active crime scene. Jack Carter, U.S. Marshal."

Ominously, New Guy flipped out a badge with at least as much ease as Jack had. "Nathan Stark, Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency." Jack looked at him, and New Guy clarified with a faint smirk, "Department of Defense."

"...huh. Didn't see that coming." And there was no way to argue that New Guy - Stark, whatever - didn't outrank him. Probably had more security clearances than Jack had toes.

"Well then," Stark said briskly, but Jack could hear the smug undertone, "now that we've gotten the introductions over with, Mr. Carter, why don't you--"

"Actually, it's -Marshal- Carter." Ignoring Stark - Jack bet himself that Stark was the type who hated being ignored - he climbed onto the chewed-up floor of the trailer. Glass crunched under his boots.

Stark sighed. "I assure you, this is way out of your jurisdiction, marshal."

"Well, I'm a _U.S._ Marshal, so technically, the United States is my jurisdiction," Jack retorted into a gutted cabinet. (Technically, he wasn't bluffing.) He eyed the separating wall, sheared off neatly in a big circle. "Damn. I've seen some strange stuff, but..." And then Stark's presence made a lot more sense. He turned around to find that Stark had gotten a lot closer - looming again. "This is why the DoD's out here in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm afraid that's classified."

"Oh, come on. We're on the same team here."

"We're not even in the same league, marshal. So I suggest you step aside and let the proper authorities handle this," Stark said, but then they both saw the bloody handprint. His eyebrows crinkled, and Jack curiously observed what actually looked like genuine concern in the man's face. Concern for what?

"What's the missing boy's name?" Jack crouched, followed the dark stains with his eyes down to...aha. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stark's expression was smooth again.

"Brian," the man replied absently, critically eyeing the splattered wall. Either he was used to the sight of bloody handprints - impressive for a government bureaucrat - or he suspected the same thing Jack did - also impressive for a bureaucrat. He had to admit Stark put up a hell of a good front.

Jack smeared a thumb over the handprint and licked the results off his finger to confirm the hypothesis he was working out in his mind. Stark not only looked unimpressed, but tilted his head again and narrowed his eyes at Jack like the marshal was an escaped Muppet.

"It's not blood," Jack announced unnecessarily.

"I assumed you weren't reckless enough to risk blood-borne infection," Stark agreed sardonically.

Jack stopped himself from glaring back. It was less effective when you were still eye-to-eye even when your adversary was several steps below you. "Hershey's Big Block," he continued instead and smiled nostalgically, "with almonds."

Stark finally quirked an eyebrow. Jack leaned over and snagged the pivotal piece of evidence for his case, holding it up for inspection by the jury of one. The chocolate bar wrapper - still decorated with fresh chocolate smears, even - crinkled in his fingers. "Believe it or not," and Stark wasn't the only one who could sound smug, "I _have_ done this before. But there is one small detail I usually like to ascertain before launching a full-scale manhunt for a missing person."

"Please. Enlighten us, marshal."

Jack didn't stop himself from smirking this time at Stark's skeptical expression.

"I'm sure someone like you would know it's standard procedure to determine that there is," he rose and walked further into the trailer, "in fact," looking around, taking stock of all the drawers and crevices, "a person missing." Bingo.

And he pulled open the the bench seat to reveal one small, sheepishly grinning boy with chocolate smeared all over his face. "Hey, Brian."

Moving beside him, Stark glanced down at the boy, then back up, and that might have even been grudging respect showing faintly in the long look he gave Jack. "...congratulations, marshal."

Jack grinned to himself. Victory, even the little ones, tasted pretty sweet sometimes.


End file.
